Fairy Tales
by Carnage Falcon
Summary: The knight rescues the princess in the tower, they escape together and fall in love. It's so storybook, but she's cool with it. She likes how he blushes when she calls him "Princess", anyway. AU, Meria/Nessiah, rated for sexual content.


This entire tower seemed to have been custom-designed just to spite her lack of wings. It didn't seem to matter how many flights she trudged up, yet another set of stairs appeared in front of her. A small part of the armoured knight saw that there was some small amount of reason to it – any invader who made it in the front door and past the first round of guards would be exhausted by the time they reached the top.

In practise, however, all it served to do was piss Meria right the fuck off. She kicked open a door as she came to it, finally finding a landing a few more guards.

"You had better be guarding something good up here," she announced as she strode into the room, dispatching the nearest guard with a fist to the base of the skull while he was still looking at his cohorts in confusion. The looks of the other two changed to shock as her sword came up.

"Please don't tell me you've never seen a female knight before," she demanded flatly. Apparently they hadn't – one came at her with a sword strike that clearly indicated he thought he was dealing with some weak townswoman. His hesitance saw him deftly disarmed, and his chivalry earned him a fist to the face. He went down and stayed down.

That got through to the last one, at least, who came at her full force. He was well-trained, fencing with her quite competently. It seemed he didn't much experience against taller opponents, however – a solid block opened him up for a boot to the chest to send him against the wall hard enough to put the lights out.

It was simply a matter of breaking the lock on the last door, and up the last short flight of stairs to claim her prize. Well, that's how the other knights would put it, Meria knew bloody well this was a rescue mission she was unlikely to see any recompense for.

Well, she was here now, and it wouldn't look good if she left something half-done. She trooped up the stairs for a look.

Typical tower prison, really – the kind designed to keep ransom victims comfortable. Bed, desk, dresser, privy in a side room.

And there they were – sitting at the desk, back to her, scribbling furiously in some sort of book. Blonde hair, small body clad only in worn purple robes. Meria would have wondered how long they'd been here if she felt at all inclined to care.

"Oi. Princess."

The figure started with a small gasp and turned to face her, revealing themselves to be wearing heavy shackles, the chains running up to connect to some form of mask... which itself failed to hide passably masculine features. She couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Come on. We're leaving." He just stared at her. "Oh, please don't tell me you're expecting Prince Charming."

"N-No..."

"Good. Grab your gear and let's get out of here before the guards wake up."

* * *

That night, sitting on opposite sides of the fire she'd started in a small cave, Meria finally decided it might be worth trying conversation – they were still a few days away from the court, where she could finally put this whole endeavour behind her and actually get back to doing what she wanted – and he had barely said a word yet.

"I'm Meria," she said bluntly. "You are?"

"...Nessiah." Meria couldn't help snorting – it was almost a princess name, even. He just clutched that book closer to his chest – that heavy tome he'd been writing in was the only thing he'd been interested in taking with him.

"What were you doing up there, anyway?" Meria asked. "Court seemed pretty keen to have you back."

He didn't reply.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter to me. Just my job to get you out of the tower, Princess."

Not even the way he looked down hid his blush.

* * *

He opened up a bit as they travelled.

His name was Nessiah Aries Artwaltz. He was an artificer – a particularly skilled one, he said with a blush. He'd been kidnapped so a foreign nation could try to convince him to create weaponized ankhs, but until they had some leverage, they'd been keeping him in that tower in the middle of nowhere – the only way to stop him escaping was to cut him off from any sort of resource input until they managed to gain some sort of leverage on him, and he'd stayed quiet out of fear this was a setup until he was sure they were headed into friendly territory.

"So yes," she said when he finished explaining. "Princess at the top of the tower who had to be rescued before they were married off or something."

He blushed furiously, but didn't seem to want to dignify that. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How did you end up rescuing me?"

She shrugged. "Barged my way into the Academy for the training and tried to piss off at the end, didn't realize at the time that ripping off the court like that was some kind of federal offence. Since all my sisters were such loyal warriors for the crown, they let me off with errant status. Then they ordered me to rescue you." She pulled a face – she'd halfway considered asking to be hanged rather than get through on the merits of her family.

"I take it you don't get along with your siblings?"

She snorted derisively. "I don't get along with anyone in my family. I was about to opt for hard time until the King stepped in. Only person at court anyone with a brain would respect."

He laughed at that. Perhaps he wasn't just a dumb hostage after all.

* * *

"I helped build the system, actually," Nessiah revealed when Meria bitched about nearly being deafened by the bells of the grand cathedral they passed. "It's mostly magical – the chains amplify the pull striking a key makes, it would be impossible to make a melody otherwise."

"But did you have to make it so goddamn _loud_?" Meria objected.

"The clergy requested the entire city be able to hear bells rung in honour of the gods." Meria thought she detected a hint of cynicism in his voice. "It was just part of the design brief."

Fair enough they had to be loud – they'd arrived at the outskirts of the capital the previous evening, and it was another full day's travel to the castle and court – but then everyone nearby would be deafened. She told him as much.

"If it's any consolation, they forgot to warn us about the cathedral's acoustics. I hear they're even louder inside."

Meria couldn't help laughing at that.

* * *

A few hours later, she broke the idle nature of their chitchat.

"You said back there you helped build chains," she said. She nodded at the ones he was wearing. "Those yours?"

"These are... a rather painful memory," he said. "I'm sure you realize high-level magic is difficult to control. Losing that control can be have a steep cost... as much as one's eyes and wings."

Those words didn't sound quite him – more like a litany, an oft-repeated answer to a hated question. Meria grimaced.

"Sorry," she muttered gruffly.

"Then what about you?" He asked.

It was no surprise he could identify her – anyone with even basic sensitivity to magic could detect angels even without the obvious giveaways – but that didn't make the question any more pleasant. Still, she'd just asked the same of him.

"Never had 'em," she said with a shrug. "Genetic fuckup."

"Must be difficult," he said. "People always pitying you."

She rolled her eyes. "You have..." His wry smile pre-empted her. "...some idea, I'll admit. Maria certainly didn't help – always going on with these speeches about how she wouldn't let the family down, running herself into the ground trying to be something she couldn't."

"And you?"

"I'm not about to suffer for what other people expect of me," she said. "Especially not when they're lowering their standards to begin with. Don't even talk to my parents anymore – I made some comments about my older sisters in front of the court and I think the only reason they haven't disowned me is because they can't claim prestige for having four knights in the family if they do."

"You're not afraid of losing support if they do?"

She laughed again at that. "_What_ fucking support? Just because they haven't disowned me doesn't mean they give a fuck. Only reason I'm not out on my unofficial ass is because Willimgard won't have a word of it."

"A knight's ultimate duty is to their King and his ideals, not their family. She is in my service until I alone say otherwise, and is to be treated as such." She looked at him. "I was there. A witness to your swearing-in, as a matter of fact. I was an Archmagister at the time."

"Explains why I didn't see you." She didn't like looking up at that balcony full of high-and-mighty assholes at the best of times. "Though not why you'd remember it."

"The same reason as you," he said. "I respect King Willimgard."

* * *

"I guess this is where we part ways," Nessiah said as they entered the keep. "I don't image you'll want anything to do with the kind of people who'd be interested in my return."

"You have that much right," she agreed. "But stay in touch, won't you? You're one of the few people around here I can stand."

He smiled that wry smile. "Why Meria, with your reputation, that's quite the compliment."

People would say that any time she said something polite or nice. Usually she just told them where to stick their sarcasm. But this time, she smiled back.

* * *

She started seeing a lot of him after that.

Not that she'd ever seek him out. Nothing of interest came up, so she stayed around the castle for quite a time, and often passed Nessiah in the halls. It seemed a little odd a first, but then, she hardly ever paid passers-by much mind; perhaps now she simply recognized him enough for him to stand out.

They stopped to chat quite often, too. It seemed Nessiah was quite busy, always buried in one project or another; either on commission or just for his own amusement. Most of the details went straight over her head, when she told him this, he just laughed and said it didn't matter, she was already doing much better than anyone else.

"And what do you mean by that?" She asked suspiciously.

"Nothing sinister. You simply haven't insisted I talk about anything else yet."

"Only because that would mean I have to think of something."

He smiled. "Surely a knight such as yourself has many tales to share?"

She smirked. "I assure you, you're my first rescue, Princess."

He blushed furiously.

* * *

He got his revenge soon enough.

"I never said thank you for rescuing me," he said the next time they met. "So here. Thank you."

He passed her a small box. She opened it, and found herself speechlessly staring at the small, yet stupidly elaborate earrings inside – fine, yet sturdy curved hooks, with a wire running to a small, polished silver star, an amethyst set in the star's middle.

"Spelled for health and protection," Nessiah elaborated when she picked one up. "Also magically reinforced and guaranteed not to fall out, so they will survive if you find yourself having to get active in a hurry."

Meria was speechless. Not that this was the first time she'd been given a gift, but it certainly was the first time someone had gone to so much effort with no ulterior motive.

"...Thanks," she managed finally, swapping them for her placeholder studs.

What did it matter if she didn't usually care to wear jewellery for her everyday routine? A friend made them for her.

* * *

It seemed so him, actually. Rather than down in the forges with the rest of the artificers, or near the library with the mages, Nessiah had to have a workshop up here far away from everything.

Oh well, she was here now. She knocked on the door.

"Read the sign!" Nessiah's voice snapped. Meria had to look down to see it, but couldn't help smiling at the neat, artistically written declaration of "Keep out or die horribly".

"Don't make me break you out of another tower, Princess."

The noise inside stopped, the silence hanging for a moment before Nessiah opened the door, blushing. He was cute when he did that – Meria was nearly a foot taller than him, so when he looked down all she saw was a head of blonde hair with glimpses of pink.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"You may," he said, turning. "Just don't touch anything."

The interior of the workshop confirmed Meria's suspicions that he all but lived up here. Everything was in a state of utter chaos, but she would have bet her bottom dollar he'd be able to put his hands on anything he wanted without looking. Apart from the workbenches and several other surfaces (unidentifiable under a dense layer of papers, books, materials and other paraphernalia) a relatively clear table was set aside in the corner; judging from the stains, he often took meals up here.

"You don't get out much, do you?" She observed.

"I haven't found the need," he said. He was back at work now, but his easy movements and comfortable speech suggesting he didn't mind the interruption. "Up until recently there was little reason for me to leave, save supplies."

"Up until recently? So you found a reason, then?"

"That, or a reason found me."

The comment was made in his usual offhand, casual manner. But really, if that was his best effort, his subtlety was starting to slip.

"Then you need to get out more, I think," she said. "Can you put all this down tomorrow?"

"...And what if I can?" The hesitance in his voice was very clear. Meria waited for him to look over his shoulder before grinning and speaking.

"I'm _taking_ you out."

Nessiah calmly put down the object he was working on, before dropping the tongs a full two or three seconds later. "You're _what?_"

"Taking you out. Get some nice food for once."

"You're asking me on a date?" he clarified, blushing furiously.

"I never said that," Meria said, still grinning.

"You're _taking_ me out on a date," he guessed.

"Never said that either," she said with a shrug. "I just said I'm taking you out to eat. Friends do that all the time."

"So do couples," he pointed out.

"What, would it be bad for you if people thought we were together?"

"No, that hardly matters."

"Then why not?"

She had him there, and he knew it. "...Alright."

* * *

"This is the only place in town that has grilled griffon." Meria said as she lead the way.

"And how do you know that?"

"I come here for the grilled griffon."

"Alone?"

"No. Sometimes I have a beer with it."

Meria was just wearing a jacket and pants – clean and nice, but she didn't feel the need to get dressed up. Nessiah had gone the same way, wearing robes very similar to his normal. Gold-trimmed, though; not as fancy as his court getup, but nicer than the well-worn sets she'd often seen him in.

In any case, he looked amused by that last comment. "While I will admit my experience with such things is hardly exhaustive, I didn't take you as one to prefer ale."

"I don't," she said. "But you know what's great about it? It's _cheap_. Don't even have to pony up too much for the nice stuff."

"I have trouble making a connection between ale and nice," Nessiah admitted.

"Don't worry, I don't expect you to drink anything you're not comfortable with. It's not like we're here to get shit-faced." She led the way into the building and picked out one of the two-seater tables, dragging out a chair for Nessiah before sitting herself.

"No need to announce ourselves?" Nessiah gathered, picking up a menu.

"Nah, it's not that fancy." She glanced over the menu herself, only noting any changes since the last time she was here. "They'll give you a good feed, so why pay out the nose for the trimmings?"

It wasn't like this place was a dirty sinkhole with a no-tell motel out the back or anything. It was clean, well-lit; the tables were set nicely with cutlery that had that reassuring, freshly-washed gleam; and the waitress that walked over to them was smartly dressed.

"Ready to order?" She chirped.

"Grilled griffon for me. Don't hold back on the spices." She scribbled that down and looked at Nessiah.

"I'll try the ravioli," he said after a pause.

The waitress added that to her notes. "Anything to drink?"

"Bottle of red, if you don't mind," Meria answered before Nessiah could say anything. "Something nice."

"My pleasure!" The waitress scooted off.

"What was that about cheap drinks?" Nessiah asked.

"That's when I'm here for the griffon," Meria said. "I'm here to get you a good meal and that includes a decent drink."

Nessiah didn't seem to have an answer for that. "I don't drink," he said finally.

"Bull," Meria snorted. "I saw you at that dance last month. You were thoroughly enjoying the reds, if memory serves. Besides," she smiled again, "are you really rude enough to turn it down when I'm buying?"

She had to fight the urge to laugh when Nessiah, in sequence, realized he'd overlooked the fact they wouldn't be eating on the castle's coin, noticed he didn't have any money on him, and quickly came to the obvious conclusion that Meria wasn't going to let him duck out. The looks on his face were priceless.

"Relax," she said, trying not to laugh. "It's on me. Just enjoy yourself."

Nessiah busied himself studying his cutlery intensely until their meals arrived, along with the drink. "Perfect," Meria said as she inspected the label. A couple of years old, and a brand she liked; bit of a splash on her part, but hell. She was here to enjoy herself with a friend, wasn't she? In any event, she poured before getting stuck into her meal.

They ate in silence for a while, Nessiah probably still trying to figure out just how he managed to make such a stunning oversight, but Meria put her cutlery down when Nessiah lifted his glass. He took a moment to sniff it before sipping, and another pause before swallowing.

"That's rather good," he commented, inspecting the label. "I can't say I saw this on the menu, though."

"Probably because it isn't on there," Meria said. "They usually get the good stuff out for couples."

She'd deliberately timed it so he wouldn't have anything in his hands when she said that; sure enough, he blushed furiously, hands nerveless as he lost his composure. "You said this wasn't a date."

"It isn't. I know that, and you know that, but they don't have to. Why complain when you're getting the good stuff?"

"For an utter delinquent the King keeps around for reasons he alone seems to understand, you can be surprisingly optimistic," Nessiah said, managing to pick up his cutlery.

"Oh? Was that compliment?" Meria pressed.

"Perhaps. I was merely making an observation." He took another mouthful of pasta before continuing. "Though perhaps opportunistic would be a better word."

"People are always telling you to go out and grab opportunity by the throat," Meria said with a shrug. "Beats me why they act all surprised when someone actually does it."

"Likely because they just as much depend on people passing up the opportunities they offer," Nessiah said. "That story about the baron and his jewels last month is already near legend, you know."

Meria couldn't help smiling at that. A thief had stolen some jewellery from the baron of some fief or other staying at the castle, and then fenced it off to some racketeers. They'd offered to sell the jewels back to the baron, but he'd started spouting about justice this and sentimental value that, and offered a reward of twice as much again for any knight to recover the jewels. Meria had simply kicked in a few doors, acquired the jewels, then refused to hand them over herself until she got paid the amount she was promised. The exchange had indeed been recounted by many:

"Your honour as a knight should mean more than material rewards."

"Honour doesn't get me fed. Cough up or I'll sell 'em myself." She voiced the second line. "I wonder why people insist on confusing practicality with immorality?"

"Because it conflicts with their sense of propriety," Nessiah offered. "They could care less what you do, except when it conflicts with their delicate sensibilities."

Meria rolled her eyes. "As if their standards would do anything in the real world. Yet I'm the ones who gets in trouble when I tell them where to shove it."

"Come now, we're discussing how the world works," Nessiah said. He was smiling, though. "Nobody ever said it was fair."

"Amen." Meria raised her glass.

* * *

That might have been the first time Meria dragged Nessiah out of his tower for a decent meal, but it was hardly the last. They went to a different place each time – Nessiah's insistence, while he didn't mind reaping the benefits some restaurants showed couples, he seemed particularly adverse to rumours. Meria just went with it – there were only so many places to eat out, even in a city this large, so they'd have to loop eventually. And with Nessiah putting up less resistance each time, it was only a matter of time before he came around to her "To hell with what anyone thinks" mentality.

And while she'd long since stopped being surprised when he pretended not to have left his workshop just to seek her out, what he had to say on this particular day did surprise her.

"Meria, I take it you're aware of the Ball next week?"

"Of course," she said with a shrug. "Who isn't?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Would you care to accompany me?"

This only surprised her a little – once or twice recently he'd gone so far as to ask whether she was available to help him find a decent feed, to the point where she didn't feel bad about a little teasing. "Why Nessiah, are you asking me out?"

His pale skin was very quickly stained pink, but he did manage to avoid his voice becoming a squeak... barely.

"...Yes."

That did it. She'd expected him to get over the constant not-a-date stigma sometime soon, but this was still surprisingly bold. It only took her a moment to recover her composure, however.

"Well in that case, I'd love to," she said with a smile. "Will I see you there?"

"Why not meet beforehand?" He offered, still blushing. "We're more likely to get seats together if we arrive together."

"As a couple, you mean." She fought the urge to grin as his blush intensified. "So I'll find you in the foyer at seven? I'd rather avoid the initial rush, doesn't matter to me where we end up sitting."

"I take your family will be there?" Meria just nodded, not trusting herself to speak without killing the mood completely. "That will be fine, I'll likely need the time to prepare in any case."

"Prepare?" She smile was back on her face. "I didn't take you as the type to spend five hours in the bathroom before a date."

"It isn't a date," he insisted, the blush also returning. "It's a social engagement."

"Whatever you want to call it, Princess."

His blush intensified furiously.

* * *

Meria wasn't as opulently dressed as those around her, but she had pulled out her formal clothes and fitted in well enough – simple yet elegant dress the colour of her hair, hair itself pulled back into a braid, the earrings Nessiah had made for her, and a pair of two-inch heels. Those were the one thing she'd bought especially for tonight – although she had a pair of boots that would do, they were much higher, and she didn't want to make the height difference between her and Nessiah too much worse than it was – not when she intended to have him dancing by the end of the night.

Even through the constant flow of people moving through to the Grand Hall, it was easy to spot Nessiah when he appeared. He'd pulled out a set of robes she'd never seen for the occasion, white with artistic red embroidery; she was pleased to note they looked giving enough in design that he'd be able to move quite well in them. His faceplate and chains were gleaming; he seemed to have taken the time to give them a good clean. She'd have to tell him she noticed later – he didn't like attention being drawn to them in public, but considering those shackles didn't come off cleaning them must have taken quite a bit of effort.

"I don't know why courtiers insist on using you as an unfavourable comparison for appearances," Nessiah said as he approached. "I have yet to see anyone better presented tonight."

Meria smiled at him. "The dress covers up my scars," she said. "You've scrubbed up well for the occasion as well, I might add."

"One must have outfits for all occasions, especially when one lives at court." He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Let's." Although it probably would have been less awkward the other way – she had to keep her arm at a rather awkward angle to take his without stooping – she indulged the gesture. Even she liked to feel pretty and appreciated now and then, after all.

The Grand Hall's decorations were up to scratch – not that Meria had been to many events, but they certainly conveyed a sense of pomp and majesty. The tables were set out in the usual way, with seating for the higher nobles and their families reserved at the more richly decorated end of the hall, but save for name placards in front of any preassigned seats, there was no difference between that and the open seating for the rest of the guests. Willimgard's insistence, no doubt – everyone was equal to him, and he'd spare no expense in letting everyone know it.

"Take a look – table to the left of the King's," Nessiah said offhand. Meria glanced, just long enough to identify her family sitting there.

"At least we know what area of the hall to avoid," Meria concluded.

"Indeed. Did you see who's sitting beside Marietta?"

Meria glanced that way again. "Isn't he some Noble's son?"

"Heir to fief Dodok, if memory serves," Nessiah said. "Word has it they're considering getting engaged."

"And yet they don't look the slightest bit into each other." Meria noted.

"The details depend on who you believe, but apparently she's gone through so many eligible bachelors her parents are making her settle down before someone starts questioning her morals."

Meria made a derisive snort, but was otherwise quiet as they found seats. She could more than believe Marietta might have gone through a few suitors – by and large, those pampered princes who got a free ride on daddy's money were a bunch of tossers. That wouldn't be so bad by itself, but her family's standing meant those tossers were Marietta's entire dating pool – it wouldn't do for a refined young lady such as herself to be seen with a commoner for a husband, now, would it?

Screw them. Screw money, power, land and luxuries. She may have been a misfit knight-errant whose boyfriend was a shut-in Archmagus and artificer, but she was _happy_.

And – a smile returned to her face as it dawned on her – and _she_ was the one getting the fairytale romance. Hadn't she rescued Nessiah from a tower? Everyone knew how it went – knight rescues princess, they fall in love, happily ever after. Sure, the details were usually a bit fluffier with a chromosome or two swapped, but loosening a few teeth on her way in to rescue 'Princess' had been much more fun.

"I'm sorry," she said as she came out of her reverie. "Here I am brooding when we're supposed to be on a date."

"Think nothing of it," Nessiah said dismissively. "I hardly picked a romantic conversation starter."

"So we are here for the romance?"

He blushed again. "I'm not sure if this is an improvement on the brooding."

She just laughed as had a proper look at where she was seated – Nessiah had been steering while she was off in her own world. He'd picked a good spot – it was one of those tables arranged for couples who arrived by themselves, and their neighbours seemed more interested in each other, meaning they could be as well without being uncomfortably secluded. They were also all but out of sight of the higher tables, so she was unlikely to be recognized by anyone she particularly wanted to avoid.

"Have you seen the menu for tonight?" she asked.

"Some exotics to show off with, but mostly standard fare," Nessiah said. "Cooked to perfection, though I don't doubt. And you'll likely be pleased to note one of said exotics is grilled griffon."

"Hm, have to say I didn't think they'd get away with that." While the griffon population, both domestic and wild, was far from being endangered, the idea of eating them was a sure-fire way to step on the toes of their enthusiasts.

"As I said, the aim is to show off," Nessiah reiterated. "And why question such an opportunity?"

"Why indeed?"

The meal passed uneventfully enough. Conversation with Nessiah was always worthwhile. Not that they didn't have their awkward moments or missteps, but they knew each other well enough by now to know how to rescue the mood if they did happen, and just as much what topics to avoid during a light-hearted discussion like this.

"The band seems to be stepping up tonight," Nessiah said as he finished his meal, commenting on the light background music they'd been playing as something of a warm-up. "It should be worth staying to listen."

"Only listen?" Meria asked with exaggerated surprise.

"I do quite enjoy music from time to time, even if I don't..." He trailed off as he realized what she meant. "... No."

"C'mon, don't be such a spoilsport." She was smiling again, but made herself be patient. "One dance. Nothing fancy, even – a waltz or something."

"Just the one?" He asked suspiciously. Meria nodded earnestly.

"Just the one."

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I can't believe I'm doing this," to himself before speaking up again.

"_One_ dance. A slow one. I don't want to trip and look more of a fool than I already will."

She chuckled. "Those robes aren't long enough to get caught under your feet or I wouldn't have asked. Besides, I'll have a grip on you. Do you really think I'd just let you fall?"

He didn't seem to have an answer for that, but Meria knew when to back off – better to just let him fume for a little while, push him too much and he'd change his mind.

She had to wait for a few songs – apart from most being too fast, she wanted enough people on the dance floor to let them just blend in, she really was asking Nessiah to step out of his comfort zone here. Eventually, she got what she wanted – the conductor announced a slow, classic waltz, with the dance floor already full of couples.

"Come on," she said, standing and offering her hand. "Just the one, then we can leave if you want."

He nodded without saying anything, but there was no sulk behind the silence – rather, he seemed apprehensive.

"Come on, relax," she insisted as they found a spot in the crowd. "It's really not that hard. You know how the hold goes?"

Nessiah nodded and, after a last moment of hesitation, stepped in the close the distance between them. It wasn't that hard to see why it was a little embarrassing – his head was right at breast level.

"...You smell nice," he offered after the awkward moment.

"Thankyou," she said with a smile – those strategically placed spritzes of mild perfume were a good idea. "I take it you would have seen a waltz before?"

"I have a general idea," Nessiah confirmed. "Though I'm left wondering where you learned so much."

"Courtly manners are a compulsory part of training for knighthood, it turns out," Meria said, fortunately saved any elaboration as the music started. "Now, if I can do this, so can you. Just follow the rhythm."

It did take them a few tries to fall into step together – Meria's natural stride was much longer than Nessiah's, and even once she'd managed to shorten up, Nessiah was still wooden – but they eventually managed to start moving fluidly with the other couples around them.

"See? Nothing to it," she told him. She wasn't necessarily keeping her voice down, but between the music and other background noise, the words stayed between them.

"I suppose," Nessiah agreed reluctantly. "But aren't I supposed to lead?"

She chuckled. "You're also supposed to be taller and know what you're doing."

"True enough." There was no fight left in Nessiah, but the tone of his voice wasn't defeat – he finally seemed to start to relax, despite their proximity. He was still looking around awkwardly, however.

"You know," she said after watching him trying to find somewhere to look without craning his neck for nearly half a minute, "it's polite to look at one's partner, and proper form to keep your head level. You have an ironclad excuse to look at my chest right now."

He blushed, but took the invitation, visibly relieved to release the strain on his neck. "Doesn't this conflict with proper manners?" He asked.

"Perhaps." She would have shrugged if a waltz hold didn't restrict independent movement of one's shoulders. "But you wanna know a secret?"

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" She ignored him.

"Girls like it when their boyfriends stare at them. Makes them feel sexy."

"And yet you still slap us and accuse us of being braindead perverts," Nessiah pointed out.

"There's a time and a place for everything," Meria told him simply as the music ended, the conductor announcing their next piece. "One more?"

"I only agreed to one," Nessiah pointed out.

"And you're just starting to get the hang of it," she said patiently. "Look around – nobody could care less about us. I know this one – bit faster, different steps, but it's the same principle."

"...Alright. One more." There was just the hint of a smile on his lips as he said it.

"You can skip, right?" She asked as the music picked up.

"_Skip?_"

She was steering and instructing before he could object further – this time, her voice was hardly the only one repeating the litany. "Waltz-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, skippity-skip," her grip was enough to support Nessiah's light frame, allowing him to move through the unexpected step with relative grace, "skippity-skip, pivot, slide, and again waltz-two-three..."

Nessiah's shock, and any misgivings, seemed to disappear quickly – instead, he took on a look of surprisingly intense focus as they went through each iteration, murmuring the steps under his breath.

"See?" She said as they managed to get through a whole bracket without stumbling. "You're getting the hang of it."

"Only because you keep catching me."

His tone surprised her. It wasn't sardonic or frustrated. Rather... appreciative. "You're welcome."

The silence held through the last few iterations. Since Meria was steering, it was easy enough to take control on the last beat and shift into the classic finishing pose: Nessiah flung right back (with a small squeak) with Meria leaning over him, face to face and very close.

"I skipped a step when I rescued you, Princess."

She gave him just long enough to figure out what she meant before closing the distance, her lips meeting his in a brief, but sincere kiss. Pulling back – she knew she could only get away with so much – she couldn't help smiling at his stunned expression.

"Come on," she got him upright, still holding his arm for support – just in case. "I think we'd better get you some air."

He regained his composure quickly enough, taking his own weight completely and gently shrugging her hand off as they headed towards the doors.

"You have a place in mind?" He asked.

"Just the gardens. They'll be quiet."

She waited until they were seating on a bench outside – the night was mild, and they were alone – before continuing. "Should I apologize?"

"No. That was... unexpected, but not unwelcome." Even in the moonlight, the light blush showed clearly on his pale skin.

"Why that face?" She asked. "Embarrassed about being kissed?"

"Not so much," he said. "I don't think anyone saw, but..."

"But?"

"But like you said. It's so... so _storybook_."

"And?" Meria said with a shrug. "Who cares? Maybe princes really do fall in love when they rescue a Princess."

He still did that cute little blush when she called him that. "Did you just say...?"

"Let's just admit it. We've been on how many dates now?"

"_One_," he insisted. She had to laugh.

"Alright. But I have to admit, I never thought I'd say this on the first date and mean it." She put a hand on his jaw and gently tilted his face up to meet hers. "I love you, Nessiah."

"I..." she could just about hear his heart hammering as she waited patiently. "I love you too..."

She just smiled and drew him into another kiss. This one, she drew out – Nessiah seemed new at this, but content to let her lead; she couldn't help being inwardly amused.

They came apart after a moment, pausing to catch breath. When Meria moved in again, her tongue slipped out to take advantage of Nessiah's lips still being parted; he made a small noise of perhaps surprise, but didn't resist, his tongue coming to meet hers experimentally.

She would have been happy to stay here making out with him, but her body had other ideas. The next time they came up for air, she couldn't help asking.

"Should I take you to my castle and show you happily ever after, Princess?"

He blushed furiously as her meaning sunk in, but the nod was unmistakeable.

* * *

Meria's room wasn't much – bed, cabinet, dresser, window – but she couldn't have cared less as she locked the door after Nessiah and herself before stooping to pull him into another kiss.

"Meria," he spoke up when they stopped for breath. "I... Y-You're..."

"I'm your first, aren't I?" She guessed. He nodded. "Don't stress. I'll be gentle."

She kissed him again before that overanalytical mind of his could start causing problems. One hand stayed behind his head, fingers buried in his short blonde hair; the other went behind her back to yank her own locks loose. He seemed lost, though; as she raked out her hair she noticed he didn't know what to do with his hands.

"Touch me," she told him. "Don't be shy. I'm not made of glass."

That seemed to help. She felt his hands on her sides, and as she kissed him again, one shyly slipped to her breast, squeezing lightly through the fabric of her dress. She shuddered as he did, a fresh wave of arousal washing through her.

She relaxed slightly as the final tie came out of her hair (she hated that pull on the base of her skull) and brought that hand around to cover the one on her breast, encouraging him to keep it there as she steered them towards the bed, managing to kick off her shoes on the way.

They sat on the edge of the bed, him breaking the kiss to look down as he removed his sandals. Meria took advantage of that to lean in a little more and kiss the side of his neck.

"Ah-!" That noise escaped with a small, surprised twitch through his body, including his hands, which translated as a slightly firmer squeeze of her breast; she made a small noise in turn.

"Harder," she whispered. She had come to fantasize about this, wonder what he would do; she expected his inexperience to lead to shyness, but now that they were here her body wanted more. Even as he found the confidence to squeeze a bit harder, shift his palm to cover her nipple, it wasn't quite enough.

Meria repositioned herself, kneeling on the bed and sitting on her ankles, legs slightly apart, dress dragged up to her hips as she shifted. Her hands swapped spots – one trailing up his arm to tilt his head back to capture his lips with hers again, the other trailing down his other arm to find his free hand.

And, without much messing around, bringing that hand to cup her pussy through her thin satin panties.

"Meria..." He had flinched a little, but it was surprise, not disgust.

"Just trust me," she said, somehow making herself be patient for just a few more moments.

"I do," he said with a nod, before initiating the next kiss himself, confidence and courage slowly building.

She started rubbing his hand against herself, a moan quickly bubbling out of her at finally having direct contact. She rocked her hips back and forth with the motion as she deepened the kiss, letting her arousal take hold.

Nessiah seemed to be pick up on her messages quickly, that hand between her legs was rubbing at her soaked panties mostly by itself now, and the one on her chest slid across to her other breast, before giving an experimental, but much firmer squeeze.

That did it – Meria's breath hitched as she climaxed, a prolonged shudder running through her body and leaving her panting for breath as it passed.

"...I needed that," she said. She grinned at him. "Now it's your turn."

Nessiah blushed as he pulled his hands back. "D-Do we need any... protection?" he managed to ask.

"Nah, I'm on the pill," she said truthfully. "That'll do for tonight." She reached up to rest a hand on his faceplate. "May I?"

Nessiah just nodded. Meria pressed on the mask as she'd seen him do several times, the plates coming apart neatly. With the main obstacle out of the way, it was easy enough to get him out of the layers of his robes in turn.

"No underwear?" Meria noted aloud, noticing he was clearly very aroused as she put his faceplate back on.

"Don't like them – too tight," he managed, despite blushing furiously. Meria didn't press the issue, instead just turning to show her back.

"Would you get the zip for me...?"

She felt his hands searching for the fiddly little zipper, then the dress coming loose with a soft sigh of fabric. His hands eased it off her shoulders, it was easy enough for her dispose of it completely, panties following quickly. As she sat up on the bed again, she caught Nessiah staring, he looked away quickly.

"Don't go shy on me now," she chastised gently. She took his hand and put it back on her now-bare breast. "It's all yours."

He turned back to face her, and didn't seem to know quite where to look, but found an acceptable substitute in shifting to lean up and kiss her. Meria went along with him, until she felt a hand on her shoulder trying to push her back.

"Ah." She gently grabbed his wrist. "I don't think so." If he'd had eyes, his expression suggested he would have just blinked in surprise. "Think about it. Your height, being even lower to get between my legs? Not gonna work, at least until you know what you're doing."

"Then what do you suggest?" That blush was near-constant, really; at least he was being a good sport about it.

Meria shifted to reverse their relative position. "You just lie back and let me do the work for a start. You'll learn enough to be creative eventually."

Meria waited a moment to let the implications of what she'd just said sink in before kissing him again, aggressively enough to make him lie back on the bed, letting her straddle his legs.

She paused for a moment there – even with her on top, the height difference would make it difficult for them to kiss once she got started; it was worth delaying things just a bit longer to make up for the time now, shifting her kiss down slightly to suck on his bottom lip and gently drag her teeth off it.

"You ready?" She asked.

He swallowed and nodded. "Yes."

Meria straightened up and shifted forward, getting into position properly before leaning down a little to wrap a hand around the base of his erection, aligning the tip of him with her entrance. She teased for just a moment there, sliding the tip of him up and down her slit and earning a choked groan for her efforts before slowly lowering herself onto him.

She paused there, letting him gasp at the sensation while she got accustomed to having him in her before shifting in place, then slowly starting to move – raising herself, then lowering; slowly, just a short amount at a time.

"Feel good?" She asked, voice breathy from the sensations in her own body. Her only answer was a deep, unambiguous moan as he clutched at the sheets under him.

"Thought so." Needing more control, she leaned forward, taking most of her weight on her arms, hair cascading down after her. She could move her hips better like this; she had greater control as she slid herself up and down his shaft, speeding up a little, a small moan escaping her from the feeling.

She kept up the pace as she heard Nessiah groan under her, moaning again – which was this time cut off by a hot, wet feeling over one nipple. She'd known her breasts would be placed invitingly, he'd evidently caved and taken one into his mouth, she could feel his tongue flick over the tight nub as he suckled.

Sensation flooding through her, she changed her motion, pressing her hips to his as she slid back and forth, grinding her clit against him as she threw control to the wind and let her body move as it would.

That seemed to be too much for Nessiah; he released her breast and gave a long, low moan as he broke. Meria gasped as she felt the hot rush of his come shooting into her; a few more quick jerks of her hips, and her pussy clutched around him as she climaxed herself.

She stayed there for a moment, gently pumping her hips to prolong the sensation for as long as possible. Eventually, her body loosened, leaving her wobbly; she could feel Nessiah completely spent under her. She lifted herself off him with a small, wet noise, then shimmied down to lie beside him. Judging by his even breathing, he was already asleep.

Meria just smiled – that was normal of first-timers, after all – and dragged the blankets over them both before leaning to kiss his cheek.

"G'night, Princess."


End file.
